Cregan's father swore an oath to you many years ago that you are the heir to the throne, and a stark never forgets his oath. Years had passed. When your father, King Viserys, died, your half-brother Aegon usurped your throne, even though you were supposed to take the throne. This of course led to a war.

When this war called Dance of Dragons began, Cregan Stark had not forgotten the oath his father had given to you. He had gathered an army from the north for you and your cause. When Cregan came to Kingslanding, you had taken your throne, but your usurper half-brother Aegon's army, the Green Army, had still not been destroyed.

Cregan had offered you his oaths, and now you and Cregan were wandering among the tents of the northern army that had set up their camp outside of Kingslanding. The northern army, which was now your army and would fight for your cause, was spread over a wide area, It was impossible to choose whether the army was five thousand strong or fifty thousand strong. When you passed through the tents, people were looking up at you, there was faith in their eyes. Cregan had seen these looks too.

"Most of the men in the army were not sent to me by my bannermen, most of the men joined the army from the villages we passed while marching the army I had gathered towards Kingslanding."

Cregan paused for a few seconds. He had been cold and reserved, like a classic northerner, ever since you met and offered you his vows. He didn't seem to know how to gather his words right now.

"Most of the men from these villages who joined the army voluntarily did not have a sword or had never held a sword in their lives. Some joined the army with pickaxes and shovels in their hands. For you, your grace. For the realms delight whom they remember how she smiled at them during the trip she took when she was little. For King Viserys' little girl."